


Changing The Laws (Don't Hold Your Breath)

by mandywritesfiction



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Consensual Kink, Crossdressing Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandywritesfiction/pseuds/mandywritesfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based in the same universe as Breaking The Law, this is a compilation of prompts and drabbles based within this universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't (Break Me Down)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I promised myself that I would try and steer clear of writing BTL drabbles in prompt form (I don’t know why I did this but, regardless, I did) but I couldn’t resist once the idea popped into my head. I’m going to say again that this is in the Breaking The Law universe, k? These number prompts are so addicting, goddamnit. 
> 
> Prompt response for hipbone and inner thigh kisses from the list of different kisses (no longer accepting) submitted by anonymous.

It was late, that much he understood when he stepped inside her apartment with nothing but his leather satchel and an empty coffee mug dangling from one hand, the newly printed key that she allowed him to keep clutched in the other. As tempted as he was to call out for her and ruin the surprise of him stopping by after getting out of the office, Owen restrained himself, shrugged out of his sports jacket, and steadily walked towards her bedroom. How ever long it had been since she left his office, Owen couldn’t recall, instead he repeated the words in his mind. How many times had Claire proclaimed that if she didn’t leave neither of them would get any work done before he finally let her zip her skirt, slip back into the matte leather heels, and strut out of his office without looking back? Unfortunately, he couldn’t answer that question either. 

Granted, he didn’t think he’d be leaving the courthouse at midnight, nor had he expected to be caught in traffic on the short drive to her apartment. Needless to say, the night hadn’t gone as expected and, even when he wanted to be upset at his untimely arrival, it made it worth it when he stepped past the threshold of her bedroom to see his girlfriend curled up in bed, her back turned toward the door. Was he dare going to speak up and make his presence known? While he wanted to, the element of surprise was all the craze. Unless she was sleeping, then he’d feel guilty for waking her; but, in his own defense, she did tell him that she’d be up when he came over. Clearly she hadn’t expected for it to be after midnight.

“If you think taking one step every minute means that I can’t hear you, you’re terribly mistaken.” Caught off-guard by the sass oozing into her tone, Owen stood still for a split second before scoffing quietly. His girlfriend had a bark, but it was much worse than her bite. He continued towards her bed and discarded his bag and jacket to the chest at the end of her bed. “Someone had a bad day,” he commented dryly. Grateful for the darkness that had invaded the bedroom, and the curtains that blocked streetlights from sneaking in, Claire rolled over onto her back and watched silently as he began to strip. It wasn't everyday he offered a strip tease without making her work for it first. Part of her wanted to know if he was going to ask what she was wearing beneath the sheets, if only to test that she was abiding by his request, while the other piece of her wasn’t going to dare mention it. “So, are you going to tell me what made your day so terrible?” 

The quiet, almost sinister laugh was all he needed to assume she’d dealt with her fair share of assholes throughout the day. Being a prosecutor wasn’t always the easiest job — her horror stories had proved that much — and it made Owen feel as if he didn’t have jurisdiction to complain about his own encounters. “Where should I start?” The family she was representing whose daughter had been killed in a hit and run and they were suing to ensure it wouldn’t happen to another innocent victim, or the woman who reminded her too much of Zara Young to fully function? Her thoughts were entangled in a blurry daydream as she felt him slip into bed beside her moments before he reached out to skim his warm touch across the expanse of her waist, her skin velvet to the touch. “How about,” he breathed against her shoulder, “you start at the beginning?” A smirk fell to his lips; he knew all too well that her day had started with  _him_. More specifically rough, haughty sex that left her sore and far too weak to move until he reminded her that they both needed to pull it together and get to work. The woes of being a lawyer; there was always someone who needed to be coddled. 

“The _last_ thing I want to discuss is how my day went, so let’s just breeze over that topic because it certainly doesn’t need an introduction.” Owen rolled his eyes easily as she sassed at his offer of venting, but ultimately he should've known better. In the months after Zara, Claire had changed her ways in every aspect where work was involved. If she had work to complete, she stayed late at the office instead of brining it home to work on, and once she crossed over the threshold, anything work related was a sore subject. Honestly, he hadn’t expected for it to last. Sure, he didn’t push talking about Zara’s case that ultimately dropped, letting Vic Hoskins off as a free man and Masrani Global to throw Owen a celebratory dinner for ultimately winning the case. But he hadn’t exactly expected Claire to shut down, change her direction, and quit discussing any and all aspects of work. Hell, duking it out in her living room as if they were at each other’s neck in the courtroom made for _blissful_ makeup sex. 

Claire made no offers at a mutual conversation and barely asked how his day had been, which only lead Owen to assume and always served him the raw end of the deal. “Well,” he huffed, sliding even closer, dipping his hand to feel across her waist. Was it a good sign that she wasn’t wearing an inch of clothing, or was it simply the fact that she wanted to obey the rules of the bedroom? “Claire Elizabeth, do not make me restrain you just so you’ll be forced to talk to me.” Owen tipped his head to look down at her as his lips shrunk at the corners, forming a gentle frown. “You’re really leaving me no choice here.” Left with unresolved feelings and the slight inkling that something really was wrong, he moved slowly to draw the sheets back as his pupils dilated at the first sight of her. Her pale skin contrasted against the dark grey sheets and offset the need to take her then and there; but he couldn’t. If there was one thing in the entire world (yet, among others) that he was against, it was skimming past her own feelings to indulge in his own. As he lifted himself to straddle her waist, locking her hips in a tight hold with his knees on either side, he leaned over and pressed the first of many kisses to her collarbone, her cheek, the tip of her nose.  _‘Talk to me’_  he desperately wanted to plead, but even Owen knew that asking her to talk wasn’t worth the battle he’d enrage inside her; Claire would speak up in her own time.  

Until then, Owen continued to pepper kisses along her skin, dipping between her breasts and lavishing attention to the dimples that adorned her throat. Did she realize that he only ever wanted her to feel the way he adored her with a love that some would name reckless? He couldn’t summon the energy to care about what others thought. He listened to the quiet purrs spilling from her lips and let the sounds guide him, eventually scooting backwards on the bed to enable kissing along her waist, and it wasn’t until he heard her whimper that he looked up. “Claire?” Expecting to see a tear skirting along her cheek, he spotted the simplest of smirks before her laughter filled the room, and confusion didn’t begin to explain the thoughts that filled his mind. “Are you going to explain why you’re laughing when I was under the impression that you were upset, or  _hurt_?” Claire could barely contain herself as she began to roll beneath him, thrashing from side to side as her chest contracted with joy. 

She stilled for a split second as his words registered, and she rested her hand on top of his gripped at her waist. “You thought I was  _hurt_?” How had he resulted with that conclusion? Worried that he would be upset if she admitted she was simply too tired to hold a conversation, Claire nudged at his knees that boxed her in until she was able to sit up to meet his lips, reaching out to hold his cheek gently. “You’re going to hate me, but I wasn’t any of the above, just tired. Oops?” She couldn't exactly explain why she hadn’t said a single thing before the moment of truth, but if it happened to be any consolation prize, she just wanted to be lavished with the care he put behind each and every touch, every kiss. Owen’s jaw gaped as he stared down at her, searching for the words to say, drawing a blank each time. 

Luckily for him, he didn’t need words to explain himself. Without speaking he leaned over to the bedside table and yanked the drawer open and shuffled blindly until he felt the chilled metal against his fingertips. “No, Owen! Tonight was supposed to be—“ he laughed quietly to himself and barely paid attention to his girlfriend who couldn’t find a way from between his legs, dangling the handcuffs from his grip as he used the key to unlock each side and motioned for her to raise both hands over her head despite the scowl on her features. It wasn’t that he didn’t care that she was raising hell, but, well, he didn’t care. 

Claire grumbled but eventually obliged to his demand, making sure she was in a comfortable position before she raised both hands towards the wooden headboard, a scowl resting firmly on her lips. “I hate you,” she hissed. Whether she hated him or not was not his biggest worry; there was a point where an insult coming from Claire would have stopped him dead in his tracks and coerced him to ask ‘why’. Now, after finally realizing that her hatred was a mark of adoration and not an insult in the slightest, Owen let her run her mouth in hope that she’d say something he could use against her at some point in the future. He especially enjoyed it when she buried herself six feet under; the one time she simultaneously pointed out the six weakest spots on her body that, when kissed, bitten, or otherwise lavished upon, made her submit easier than a snap of fingers.

After he’d secured the metal cuffs around her wrists and ensure they weren’t cutting off circulation or causing any chaffing, Owen leaned over her and traced a hand between their bodies, gliding over her inner thighs at a painstakingly slow pace as he pressed his lips to hers, happy to find that she was still responding in one way, and soon to be more. “Contrary to popular belief,” he began, kissing the tip of her nose, “I’m not going to fuck you until you’re seeing—what was it you said last night? That you were seeing rainbows?” Owen laughed and a snarl slipped from her gritted teeth, her scowl visible through the tears forming in his eyes. "Stop laughing!" She tried her best to throw him off, rocking from one side to the other, desperate to be out of his general vicinity. No one would ever understand how he simultaneously annoyed her and melted her to the core. She could guess it was because he disguised himself as an arrogant dick, but the jury was still deliberating on the verdict. 

"Well, if you aren't going to fuck me into next week, I'm not too interested in whatever you're offering." Wishing she could cross both arms over her chest, Claire clenched her legs together instead. As if that would stop him from trading her. As much as she wanted to deny it and try to convince him otherwise, Claire lived for the way he could so easily turn her on, teasing with merely a look. It reminded her of when they'd end up in the courthouse together, passing in the hallway on their way to separate meetings. All it took was a glance, a simple look in her direction for Claire to know she'd better prepare for the moment she stepped into her apartment; and sometimes he didn't even wait until then. It was one of the many perks to having a key to her apartment. 

Owen frowned and interrupted her thoughts with a gentle kiss to her temple before he reached out to brush his fingertips along her cheek. "Are you sure there isn't something on your mind?" Other than the fact that he just trampled the fantasy that had engulfed her. Until she decided to answer honestly, he reached up and slipped the key into the middle bar between the cuffs, letting the restraint release her from its grip. Claire whimpered from the loss of contact, the sudden whiplash of being jerked out of a submissive state, fucking with her mind. "I wanted to hear what you were offering," she claimed, mindlessly rubbing her thumb along her opposite wrist. Playing to his emotions, Owen tilted his head forward and kissed her sternum, shaking his head. "Not tonight," he breathed. He knew how to take a hint and, while he'd originally thought she was playing up the tendrils of sleep that'd latched onto her, Owen knew that her mind wasn’t in it. Honestly, he couldn’t argue with the hidden revelation, either. He knew when it was okay to push her, to nudge her closer to the edge. Hell, there were nights were crying was cathartic and Claire begged him to make it happen, and he obliged only to hold her close once she fell miles from the high and hit reality with a sharp snap. 

She wanted to fight his jurisdiction and beg to be touched, teased, and pleasured, but Claire knew that he’d all ready decided and was set on it. There were many things she could do to entice him into changing his mind, but on a night like this, she knew it was hopeless. Instead, she relaxed with his weight still hovering over her and closed her eyes, but she wasn’t expecting what came next. The way he gently nudged himself between her knees, kissing the soft skin before he moved further, elicited shivers to erupt across her body and took on a warning sensation in her core. It was sickening how one touch could suddenly melt her. “I want you to tell me where you want my lips,” he mumbled into her ivory skin, nipping gently at her inner thigh before he coaxed her to moan with light kisses that led a trail to her hip. He winced at the spotted blue and purple colors that mixed beneath her skin, causing a distorted galaxy to have spread across her waist. It was as if the were engulfed by the milky way that particular morning; he’d held her by the waist as she bent over the kitchen table, just tall enough that the corner touched her hip, which didn’t mix well with him thrusting into her, slamming her against the wood each time. But Claire had indulged in the concoction that the pain and pleasure injected into her veins; it was adrenaline, an endorphin of sorts that made her continue. 

As gentle as he could possibly be, Owen skimmed his lips across her waist, touching the middle of the galaxy before he continued on, glancing up at her momentarily, watching as her eyes drifted closed. Without another word, he settled next to her and pulled the sheet over his girlfriend, kissing her shoulder. They’d have an eternity to tease each other but tonight he simply wanted to hold her.

* * *

 

As always, I owe everything to those of you who make up my raptor dream-team: [@amelias-obsessions](https://tmblr.co/m4iCJu3XgXo-HyUjTZnID4A), [@the-clawen-pamphlet](https://tmblr.co/m8W0zNecxK3trkbuUGV4ivQ), [@cometothedarkside-x](https://tmblr.co/mSXb-44AwdOvU8SkRVBsizQ), [@wonderrbat](https://tmblr.co/m0za3FoE_Y5vKxOzIeWPabw), [@poeticandvaguelysweet](https://tmblr.co/m7Vwb7TGD1fhG7dh5MC2hLg), [@senatorrorgana](https://tmblr.co/m-T_uR3odvFMwWO5emdv-eg), [@verxxotle](https://tmblr.co/mViKCjtOjICZmH8v4dCSKEg), [@cali-forniacationn](https://tmblr.co/muOz3-YgtL0wwWkn0lWnbRw), @endearing-claire, [@firestarter91](https://tmblr.co/m3yzj34q_3FfpEmLon5inhw), [@all--the--dancers](https://tmblr.co/mqa3kpUJ1-NQzKXkTzon5uA), [@batmansgirlwonder](https://tmblr.co/mYYdS2ehut2-W3HPoxlpuRw), [@dealingdreams](https://tmblr.co/mh5E4_yKC6ipUBq6Q9nz1hA), [@dinosaurswowenough](https://tmblr.co/mYJmsibxBqxC1-pJbSsdrsg), and I’m sure there are so many of you that I’m forgetting to tag, and I profusely apologize.


	2. Game On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a random night, months ago, Claire and Owen made a bet. If he won, he was able to have Claire for an entire, uninterrupted night. Now, he’s cashing in on his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I promised myself that I would try and steer clear of writing BTL drabbles in prompt form (I don’t know why I did this but, regardless, I did) but I couldn’t resist once the idea popped into my head. Anyways, I hate how easy it would be to give up on BTL as a series and just write prompts for it and keep them stored in the collection over on AO3. Here’s where my issue with multi-chapter fics comes into play. (I haven’t decided to do that, yet, but if I do, I’ll let y’all know first.) It’s my birthday so I decided to be uber nice and give y’all a present. Plus, I don’t do well with peer pressure, so there’s that, too.

_Claire,_

_Remember the night we had a nerf-gun battle and, just as the note stated, if I won, I had the right to have you to myself for an entire night? A whole night where I could do whatever I wanted with you._ _That same night, I was called just as we got started and had to go to the goddamn courthouse._

_Well, tonight’s your lucky night, Claire Elizabeth. Tonight, you’re mine. On the bed you’ll find new lingerie. Put it on, and don’t forget the blindfold laying next to it. Put the blindfold on, making sure you can’t see out the bottom._

_Don’t say I don’t know you._

_When you’re done, lay down in bed._ _I’ll be in when you’re ready._

_Game on, baby._

* * *

 

It took more than a note from her boyfriend to intimidate Claire. 

Correction: the more she read over his words, scrawled with blue in his familiar chicken scratch, the more Claire felt the anxiety building, bubbling in her throat and restricting her breathing. 

Needless to say, she didn't handle the stress well. Except when she wanted to. When it came to Owen, though? Giving up wasn’t an option and, until that night, letting him  _win_  wasn’t an option, in her book. Now, the fact of the matter was that he had won and she was going to pay the price. 

Running the small, ripped piece of paper through her fingers several times, Claire soon discarded it to the counter and began to walk the familiar path to their bedroom, feeling the weight of her impending doom build with each step. She wasn’t nervous of what he  _would_ do; it was more what he  _wouldn’t_  do that was the slightest bit intimidating. But the moment she saw what he’d bought, Claire couldn’t help but laugh. Sitting on top of the bed was the blindfold. 

There was no lingerie -- not that she doubted he would buy it for her -- but the whole point of it was getting her in as little clothing as possible, and Owen had surely won. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, stepping up behind her to guide his hands around her waist, resting over her stomach.Claire couldn’t help the way his voice made her shiver; it had to be the fluctuating tones and the way she could detect what each meant. She knew that he was going to torture her, but the fact that she had no idea what was in store made her stomach twist into knots. Knowing  _that_  made Owen grow ever harder. 

“Nothing is  _wrong_ , I was just thinking about your note and I’m,” She paused to swallow thickly, “I’m slightly disappointed that there isn’t new lingerie waiting for me.” 

_Bull-fucking-shit._

"How long have we been together, Claire?” Owen leaned forward to test his lips against the back of her neck as he gingerly reached for her wrists, tugging them behind her back. It wouldn’t take much to restrain her against the bed, but he wanted to be able to see her, and tying both hands behind her back would inhibit that. That said nothing to tying her to the headboard, though. 

“Um, three years?” Three if they were excluding the few dates they’d gone on in the  _before_  period. Claire pulled against his strength and whimpered quietly, inhaling sharply. 

“Use the word, if you need to...” He reminded, though he knew it wasn’t needed, she was simply testing the limits to see how far he’d let her get. After a moment of silence, Owen continued in his mission to tease, gathering both wrists in one hand. While he knew it had to be uncomfortable, he knew Claire wouldn’t mind the slight pain. Plus, she had their safe-word, and would use it if she needed. So, to test her, he pushed her forward to the edge of the bed before he lowered her onto it, face first, pushing her chest against the mattress as he fished a tie out of his back pocket. “This’ll do for now,” he muttered as he began to string it around her wrists, weaving above and below to create a pattern she’d have to struggle to free from. 

“Owen, please...” Claire rocked back and forth as she tried to gain leverage to stand, and just as she was able to get her feet under her, Owen stepped forward to wedge his knee between her thighs with a slight laugh. “Going somewhere?” Owen finished the final knot on the tie before he calmly pulled her to stand, stepping back to give her a moment to breathe. He knew what Claire needed, how far she could be pushed minute-by-minute, and he only wanted to tease her, not  _hurt_ her. The goal  _never_ was to hurt her. Instead, he reached around her to grab the blindfold and, before putting it on, he sidled past to stand in front of her. 

“Before I put this on, I just wanted to say welcome home,” he breathed and leaned in to kiss her gently, reaching out to hold her waist. “Any restrictions tonight? Anything you aren’t feeling up to?” The list was endless on what she  _wanted_ to do to him. There were nights were she only wanted to be selfish and receive everything only to never give an ounce back. Tonight, however, was a different story. 

“I know my word, Owen, I’ll be fine.” 

Judging by her daring smirk, Owen simply shrugged before he reached up and slipped the silk blindfold to rest on her nose, the elastic band snapping into place at the back of her head. “Now, I’m going to untie your hands, but I’m going to turn you towards a wall, first. You’ll put your hands out to rest against the wall, and if you move them away from the wall, or at all, you will not be getting  _anything_  tonight. Understand?” 

Did he understand how the way he talked made her instantly wet? Clearly not. Claire nodded without a word as he took her to the wall and held up on his end of the bargain, sighing once her wrists were released and she could hold her arms in front of her again. 

“Don’t let that feeling become too familiar,” he laughed, reaching out to stroke across her ass only to pull his hand back a second later and smack her with half the force that he could put into it. “And, I asked you a question, are you going to answer?” Claire moaned at the tone in his voice, nodding her head. “I understand.” 

Owen continued through the motions of undressing her, taking his time in teasing as he stood behind her, pressing against her as best he could, but he knew she could feel him, even through her skirt  _and_  his denim pants. His arms snaked around her to the side where the skirt was zipped and clawed at the metal lip until the material fell around her feet to form a pool of black. It was as if the material was trying to warn her of the outcome of the night. Next, he slipped a hand into the front of her underwear before slipping a hand between her lips, barely flicking a finger across her clit to make her cry out.  _Fuck,_ the noises she could make were delicious. He could play her like a violin, each tender area like a new spot on the fingerboard, causing a varying range of sounds to escape her. While he was busy building up the teasing game, he worked to slip each button through its hole in her shirt but, after a minute of trying, he pulled his hand away from her clit, which caused quite the uprising. 

Claire growled and thrusted forward, clearly seeking his touch, but was disappointed when she felt both hands working at her shirt. “Can’t you leave it until  _after_  I come?” 

The question didn’t sit well with Owen. Was she under the miscommunicated impression that  _she_ was in control tonight? “I’m sorry, should I just tie your wrists again and leave you here to figure out how you’re going to get off? Or,” Owen backed up with a smirk, leaving her shirt hanging open, watching as she turned her head from side to side, trying to figure out just where he was. “How about I go drink a beer or two and come back to see what progress you’ve made in, oh, and hour?” 

Claire cried out pathetically and moved closer to the wall, hoping he’d be standing in front of her. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t say another word. Please, just don’t --” she swallowed thickly, feeling the anxiety climbing higher in her throat. Luckily, Owen had too. He stepped closer to her and immediately reached out to touch her, gently caressing her upper thigh in attempt to calm her racing heart. “Easy,” he whispered, the irritated tone dropping from his voice in an instant. Instead, he leaned in and began trailing his lips along the back of her neck. Without moving away, he gently brought his free hand around to tug at the material covering her shoulders, guiding it off her arms before haphazardly throwing it to the ground. “I’m right here. Just breathe for a minute, all right?”

He’d be an idiot to ignore the toll this took on his girlfriend. Submitting wasn't something she had been accepting of when the idea was first brought up. To be honest, she’d looked at him like he had four heads, and none were attached to his dick. If it weren’t something she was comfortable with, he promised to drop the conversation. Yet, the more they discussed it in depth, the more she seemed to open to the idea of  _submitting_ to him, at least where sex was involved. He wasn’t asking her to be his  _bitch_  and make him dinner, serve and  _feed_  it to him. He only wanted her to be  _his_. To submit; to give herself to him. Most of the time it was more about connecting on a deeper level; it wasn’t just about fucking each other. It included the build-up, and restricting one sense to heighten others. Owen’s common choice was the silk blindfold she’d grown to know so well. 

Once her breathing seemed to return to a normal pace, Owen pressed against her ass and gently nudged her to move closer to the wall. “I just want you standing against it,” he commanded with an unusually polite tone, adding with an amused smile, “put your hands out so you don’t run into it, baby.” He took care in unhooking her bra, letting the strap snap open as he turned her to face him, then pressing her back to the wall. This time, he took in the sight before him and merely wanted to praise her for being such a fucking goddess. Her skin was sun-kissed with more freckles then he could ever count, but he knew exactly where each was on her body. Some nights when he couldn’t sleep, he’d lay in bed next to her and trace the outline of stars on her skin, connecting each with a soft touch or a simple kiss while Claire lay sleeping. 

He smoothed his lips across her skin, starting just below her collar bone, kissing to the taut skin before he began to nibble on it. They had a rule; the more marks, the better. And Owen planned to cash in on it tonight. Before long, he began to rake his teeth across her skin, listening to her quiet whimpers as they fueled the fire in him. Owen could barley kiss each patch often enough before he reached out to pull the bra away from her skin, watching as her perked nipples betrayed her, hardening in an instant. It was like she could  _feel_  him staring at her. He lowered his lips to the freckled settled between her breasts, lavishing it with kisses before he couldn’t resist and moved left to capture her nipple, reaching up to tweak the other with his hand. 

Claire melted beneath his touch and whimpered as he bit down on her tender nipple. He knew how fucking sensitive she was at  _any_  time of the month, and yet he still used it as the ultimate torture device. His plan of ultimate teasing was certainly working in his favor. He decided to continue, not keen on giving in to her whimpers just yet, and reached for both her wrists, frowning when she pulled back with the slightest bit of uneasiness. Owen sensed the hesitation and a tight line formed between his eyebrows. “Claire, baby, if something’s wrong, tell me.” 

Unexpectedly, soft laughter trickled into the room until she was biting into her lower lip to stifle herself. “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered as the blush surfaced to the top of her cheeks. 

“Stop what?” He probed and gently led her to the edge of the bed. Either way, he wanted her out of the last bit of material that kept her from him. 

“I,  _oh._  I thought you were done with me.” 

Owen snarked with a bemused laugh and merely shook his head only to realize a second later that she couldn’t see him, which might’ve been to his advantage. “No, love, there’s plenty more where that came from.” As he guided her towards the edge of the bed, he reached out and hooked two fingers into either side of her underwear before he tugged them away from her waist, to her thighs, and pushed them to her ankles before asking her to step out of them. They wouldn’t be needed, that was known. “The bed is just behind you, and I want you to lay back, but then you’re going to twist so you’re laying with your head at the top of the bed, all right?” 

Incredibly thankful that he wouldn’t be quieting her as he had in the past with various  _materials_ , Claire followed the clear directions until she was laying just as he had asked, only a bit skewed to the side from the lack of being able to see  _where_  she was on the bed. 

“Now, spread your legs.” 

She froze with the command, knowing what would be next. 

“Claire, spread your legs,” he growled with the last attempt of letting  _her_ complete the task. If he had to ask again, he could promise she wouldn’t enjoy the outcome. 

“You’re bringing out the wand, aren’t you?” 

How did she fucking know? 

“One last chance, Claire...” 

Not wanting to be inflicted with the horror of having her legs spread  _and_ tied, unable to close when he would inevitably bring the wand out to play, Claire slowly spread her legs until they were a reasonable distance apart. 

It was good enough... for now. 

He reached around to his back pockets and pulled out two important pieces of the puzzle, holding one in each hand; a tie and the vibrator wand. How she hadn't noticed them earlier was beyond him, but it probably had something to do with the blindfold that she wore. “I want you to pick a hand, Claire,” he smirked, leaning onto the bed with one knee as he reached out to run his fingers across her chest with the other. “One or two, what’s your choice?” 

In a poor attempt to get more knowledge, Claire squirmed slightly from side to side. “Can I have a hint of what’s in each?” 

“How about this one: you’ve had both used on you before, and if you don’t decide, I’m going to.” While he saved being forceful for times where she pulled the stubborn card, he was losing his ability to call her out on the scrambling she had been doing all night. “Times up, I decide.” 

“No! No, no, no!” Claire didn’t dare reach up to pull the blindfold off, even if she had thought about it in the mere seconds between his words and her slight panic-attack. “No, okay, I’m sorry! I pick one!” 

Owen had already advanced towards her, reaching for each wrist as he stretched her arms over her head, tying both wrists together for the second time that night. 

While Claire on the other hand wasn’t going to have any of it. “You said you’d let me choose!” 

“I said you had to  _hurry_  and choose, and you  _chose_  to use your time to fool around. That being said, I get to pick.” Owen stood from the bed to pull his shirt off and tossed it to the floor before he started to work on his jeans. If he was going to get  _anything_  during the course of the night, he wanted to at least be ready. There was nothing worse than having to stop to  _undress._

As he shrugged out of his boxers, Owen couldn’t help but to sigh at the relief once his cock was free of the denim restraint. It was hard enough trying to take his time with her, and even worse when he was so hard that it began to hurt. Eyeing the toy he’d thrown onto the mattress, Owen sank onto their bed and moved to hover over Claire, holding himself up with a hand on either side of her head. 

To tease or not to tease...

Owen reached between them to trail his hand down her stomach, veering to the right just as he reached the apex, smoothing across her thigh instead. The groans that slipped from her told him everything he needed to know and certainly elicited the shivers that traveled up his spine. “Quickly, choose. One or two?” 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

“Two,” she whimpered, waiting for the next restraint to be tied. Instead, she gasped as he slowly pushed two fingers inside her, and Claire clenched around them. She could still tease him, even if she were submitting to him. How long would it be before  _he_  gave in and fucked her? 

“Oh, you think you’re sly, don’t you?” Just as he pulled his fingers out of her, Owen moved to kneel beside her, knowing that he would need more restraint when he decided what to do next. There was nothing like fucking her  _while_ teasing, but tonight he wanted to watch her writhe beneath his torturous touch. Unable to wait any longer, Owen reached for the wand and gripped it tightly before pressing it to her clit. The softest whimper reached his ears and he smiled; if she was going to mewl for it when it was off, what would happen when he clicked it on? As he slowly, and silently, counted to ten, Owen slowly rubbed it along her clit before dipping it further down, getting the head of it wet to enable easier movement. When he reached ten, he barely hesitated in turning on the vibrator, holding it tightly to her clit as he watched her come to life. 

What was calm breathing began to escalate into half-breaths, forcing Owen to watch her chest to know that she was at least breathing in enough oxygen to keep her from growing light-headed. Plus, the fact that her arms were pulled tautly over her head gave her lungs further room to distend. Only thirty seconds into the frenzy did she begin to try and coax him to pull it away, turn it off, do whatever it took to remove it from her clit.  

 “O--Owen, please,” she panted, twisting from side to side to escape the relentless assault. “Please, let me come.” 

“Let you  _come_? Are you crazy, Claire? We’ve been at it for  _maybe_  an hour, and you’re already asking to come?” He laughed, watching her stomach as she struggled, pulling away the vibrator at the last second before she could come. 

“ _Fuck_!” She screamed, lifting her knee in an effort to knock against some part of his body. Hopefully his dick. “You’re such an asshole! I was so close, you couldn’t just let me have  _one_  orgasm?” From the look of her crimson-stained cheeks and the beads of sweat formed on her hairline, she was certainly milliseconds away from an orgasm. 

That was unfortunate. 

“I’m sorry? Where was the ‘ _thank you’_ in that mess?” Owen scolded, scoffing with disappointment. He dropped the vibrator to the bed and scooted off the side, rounding until he was standing closest to her. “Close your eyes, I’m going to pull the blindfold off,” he warned. Moments later, she was assaulted by the blinding light hanging above her, but when she looked to the side she could see the faint outline of her disgruntled boyfriend.

“I decided that you’re being slightly ungrateful, so I’m going to go out of the room for a bit, without untying your arms, of course. When you decide that you can be grateful for the time spent being teased, I’ll come back in.” Claire gasped in shock as he stepped towards the door, shaking her head without words. What? Where was he going? He was going to  _leave her_  laying naked on their bed? 

“Owen Grady,” she growled, watching as he continued straight out of their bedroom. “I swear to God, you better come back and untie me!”

* * *

 

As always, I owe everything to those of you who make up my raptor dream-team: @amelias-obsessions, @the-clawen-pamphlet, @cometothedarkside-x, @wonderrbat, @poeticandvaguelysweet, @senatorrorgana, @verxxotle, @cali-forniacationn, @endearing-claire, @firestarter91, @all--the--dancers, @batmansgirlwonder, @dealingdreams, @dinosaurswowenough, and I’m sure there are so many of you that I’m forgetting to tag, and I profusely apologize.


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